The Memory Thief Read online

  “Twelve elixion ounces of Essence.”

  Elle’s stomach dropped. She’d measured her Essence collection last week while she was alone at home, sneaking into Salvia’s bedroom to use her special Essence calibrator wand. The glittery gold number that drifted into the air told her she had just over eight elixion ounces. It had taken two years to save that much. “Are you serious?” she asked. “Last time I enquired, it was six. I expected it would be more now, but—”

  “Six?” Cress let out a rich, husky laugh. “When was that? A decade ago?”

  “Two years.”

  Cress dabbed her finger delicately beneath each eye as she sighed. “You’re aware that prices go up over time, aren’t you?”

  “I know, but by that much?”

  “Yes, by that much. I’m sorry, sweetie, but that’s the going price of a third-tier wish these days.”

  Elle set her jaw and pushed her shoulders back. “I bet a dealer could sell it to me for less.”

  Cress’s expression darkened. “A dealer? You want to buy dodgy, illegal wishes on the black market? Even if that wasn’t a recipe for disaster, you still won’t get one for the price you’re hoping for.”

  Elle exhaled slowly. “Okay, I’m sorry. Is there anything else you’d accept as payment?”

  “Now you’re being silly. Who do you think I am? The Godmother?”

  “No, I just mean that maybe you could consider taking money instead of—”

  “Oh, honey, don’t be ridiculous. Essence is the only accepted form of payment for a wish. You know that. Everyone knows that. I don’t have time for people coming in here expecting special treatment. Now off you go.” She made a shooing motion with her hands, her bangles jangling loudly. “I want to help you, I really do. But you need to come back when you’re ready to take this seriously.”

  A few hours later, Elle sank onto her bed in the attic. She had less than ten minutes until she was expected to be downstairs in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She pressed both hands over her face and willed herself not to break down. She would not give in to despair. She would find a way to make this work. To save enough for a wish. It was the only option. Nothing else—aside from Salvia’s own words—could break the slave charm. The alternative was to remain a slave forever, and Elle refused to accept that.

  I’ll just have to do more jobs, she decided. And I’ll have to charge more. She climbed off the bed, stuck her hand beneath the mattress, and removed her phone, planning to search through her list of clients for someone who hadn’t contacted her in a while. But there was already a message on the screen. An enquiry from someone new. A flash of hope warmed Elle’s insides. This was exactly what she needed. She lay down again and read the message.

  Unknown: My friend Monty gave me your number. Said you’re really good at what you do. I’d like to meet you tonight if possible? Sanguinious Maximus

  Elle rolled her eyes at the obviously fake name. She dropped her head back onto the pillow, the phone clutched loosely in her hand as she considered how to reply. Salvia was entertaining tonight, which meant it would be a busy evening for Elle. It would be late by the time Salvia’s friends left, and even later when Elle finished cleaning everything up. Tomorrow night would be better.

  First, though, she needed to make sure this person’s story checked out. That—along with the fact that she only ever met with people in busy, public places—was the only security measure she could take. She typed a quick message to Monty.

  Trixie: Did you give my number to a friend of yours? Someone who might be using the very strange alias Sanguinious Maximus?

  She waited another minute or two, then sat up to put the phone away. But it buzzed in her hand before she could stand.

  Monty: Sounds like my friend. Hope it was ok to pass on your number? You said I could refer people to you if they sound serious about needing your services.

  * * *

  Trixie: Yes that’s fine. Thanks.

  She tapped her way back to the message from Mr. Maximus and typed a reply.

  Trixie: Thanks for your query. I can’t meet tonight. Tomorrow night?

  At that moment, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Elle shoved the phone beneath her pillow and shot up off the bed, but then she recognized the footsteps as Sienna’s. She crossed the room and met Sienna in the doorway. “Did Salvia send you? Am I supposed to be downstairs already?”

  “No, don’t worry, she hasn’t said anything. And she won’t notice I’m up here.” Sienna moved past Elle into the attic. “She’s been busy on her computer for hours, totally absorbed in her current research.”

  Elle turned around. “Current research?”

  “Dress designers.” Sienna rolled her eyes. “According to her, Meredith will be wearing the most jaw-droppingly stunning creation of all time to the Moonlight Masquerade Ball. Apparently that’s supposed to make the prince fall for her.”

  Elle groaned. “It would be better if he fell over her. Like if he tripped on her silly dress or something. Then he’d never choose her.”

  Sienna laughed. “There’s no way he’ll ever choose her.”

  “You don’t think?” Elle crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “She knows how to get what she wants.”

  “Sure, but she has way too much competition this time.”

  “That might not be enough to stop her. Seriously, Sienna, we can’t let him choose her. You know what the royal family is like. I’ve heard how the king treats slaves.”

  A frown creased Sienna’s brow. “But even if Meredith does end up marrying into the royal family—which is highly unlikely—you’ll be free by then, won’t you? That’s what I came up here to ask you about. I figured you’d probably go to the apothecary today. I know it’s close to Harrington’s.” Her eyes shone as her smile reappeared. “How close are you to being able to afford that wish?”

  Elle let her eyes slide shut as disappointment caved in on her again. “I’m sorry. It’s bad news.” She opened her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you last night about having almost saved enough. If I’d known I was getting your hopes up for nothing, I would have kept quiet.”

  Sienna’s face fell. “Has the price gone up way more than you thought?”

  Elle nodded. “Like, a lot more.”

  “Man, that sucks.” Sienna stared at the floor, her brow furrowing. “What if … I mean … I’m scared to even say it, but what if …” Her eyes rose to meet Elle’s. “What if you didn’t buy a wish.” Her gaze was heavy with meaning, and Elle knew at once what she was suggesting.

  “I’m not summoning the Godmother,” she said immediately.

  “Look, I know it’s dangerous to bargain with her, but it might be the only way to get your freedom.”

  “It isn’t the only way,” Elle said firmly. “I just have to keep saving.”

  “But, Elle, if the rate at which the price goes up is faster than the rate at which you can save Essence, then how is this ever going to work?”

  “I’ll just have to save Essence faster. I’ll start charging more. After all, there isn’t anyone else who can do what I do, so I can afford to charge more, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I suppose …” Sienna’s tone was still full of doubt. “But what if you still can’t save enough. What if a bargain is the only way to get your hands on a pure, high-quality, third-tier wish?”

  Elle tightened her arms over her chest and stared at the floor. She couldn’t possibly consider this as an option, could she? But what if Sienna was right? Pure wish magic was rare, produced only by highly skilled fae who’d trained for years at the Mages’ Guild. Wish production was closely regulated, and the wishes produced were supplied only to registered sellers. Dealers like the one Monty had mentioned sold wishes produced by fae who hadn’t been properly trained. The wishes they produced weren’t the best quality, and sometimes they went horribly wrong. Which left the Godmother as the only other option for anyone seeking a genuine, high-quality wish.

  Elle
had no idea what her real name was, but rumor had it that decades ago, she was the very best mage at the Mages’ Guild, producing magic that could grant the most incredible wishes. Then, for some reason, she wanted to leave. She was supposed to have the knowledge of wish magic removed from her mind before cutting ties with the Guild—that had always been the rule—but instead, she managed to escape. She hid her identity and had been supplying wishes illegally ever since. Anyone could summon her, or so the rumors said, and apparently she could grant almost any wish your heart might desire. The only catch, however, was the price.

  It wasn’t Essence or money that the Godmother wanted. She dealt only in bargains, and what she asked for in exchange for a wish was always different. Something specific to each wisher, in proportion to the magnitude of the wish. Someone’s eyesight, or the first three years of their child’s life, or the one possession that brought them the most joy. Elle had never heard of anyone who’d been happy with the price they’d had to pay. Which was why she would never do it.

  “I won’t bargain with the Godmother, Sienna,” she said, looking up. “You know it’s a terrible idea. It might be the easiest short-term solution, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life regretting it.”

  Sienna covered her face and groaned. “Ugh, I know. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. It just feels like we’re never going to get away from Mom.”

  “I know, but we will. It’s just going to take longer than I thought.”

  “You’re right.” She lowered her arms to her sides. “It’s okay. We can handle this. And if you still haven’t saved enough by the time I’m a legal adult and supporting myself, then I’ll find a way to free you from Mom. At least then you won’t have to worry about getting me away from her as well.”

  Elle’s heart sank a little deeper. Could she really wait for however long it took Sienna to finish school, study further, find a job, and earn enough to support herself? Even then, how long would it take her to save enough of her own Essence for a third-tier wish?

  “It sucks that Meredith’s wish from Martin is only a first-tier one,” Sienna added. “I got so excited when I first saw it last night. If it was third-tier, we could have stolen it, and you might have your freedom already.”

  “I know,” Elle said quietly. “But it isn’t, so there’s no point in even thinking about it.” She sighed and pushed away from the doorframe. “I guess I’d better go downstairs before Salvia notices I haven’t started prepping dinner yet.” She was about to turn back toward the stairs when a muffled buzz issued from the vicinity of her bed. She hurried across the room and pulled her phone out from beneath the pillow.

  Unknown: Tomorrow night works. Meet at The Topaz Lounge at ten? I’ll be on the right-hand side of the bar, wearing an old-fashioned hat.

  The Topaz Lounge. Elle hadn’t heard of that one before, but she could easily look it up. She smiled at Sienna. “I have another job. And I’m going to start charging more. I’m going to make this work, okay? Somehow, I’m going to save enough.”

  Elle stepped out of the glass elevator that had just shot up the side of one of Vale City’s tallest buildings and walked into The Topaz Lounge. It was a good thing she’d read a little about this place instead of merely looking up its location. She would have been underdressed in her usual attire. Fortunately, her secret wardrobe included a glitzy silver dress that was mid-thigh length and high-heeled black boots that reached to her knees. She would far rather have worn her combat boots, but she didn’t want to stand out by pushing any fashion boundaries.

  She looked around, noting the bar on one side of the room and stylish couches on the other, where floor-to-ceiling glass provided an extensive view of Vale City. This was by far the most upper class club she’d ever been inside. With its slow, seductive music, sleek black and white finishings, and well-dressed patrons sipping cocktails or swaying in time to the irresistible beat of the music, it oozed class and elegance.

  She walked slowly past the couches, trying to act as if she belonged here. At one of the low tables between two couches, a woman and two men played poker. Towers of chips and several jewels, gleaming with the wish magic within them, sat at the center of the table. As Elle passed, the woman placed her cards on the table with a flourish. Over the sultry music, Elle heard her shout out, “Yes!” Both men slumped back against the cushions. The woman leaned forward and scooped her winnings to her side of the table. She lifted one of the wishes, encased within a green gemstone. Elle slowed, watching the way the light refracted off the faceted stone. The woman wrapped both hands around it, and Elle found herself coming to a stop as she watched. Was the woman going to use the wish right now? Elle shouldn’t stare. She knew it was rude, and it might bring her unwanted attention. But she couldn’t help it. The woman’s hands tightened around the gem as she used a charm to break it. A gold substance, heavier than Essence but lighter than water, poured out over her arms and lap. For a moment, her whole body seemed to glow. Her lips moved, but Elle couldn’t figure out what she was saying. Within a few seconds, the wish magic had vanished, leaving the woman looking exactly as before. Well, except for the satisfied smirk that curved her lips. Curiosity burned within Elle. What had the woman wished for?

  One of the men looked up then, catching Elle’s gaze before she could look away. She smiled politely before pointing her eyes forward and resuming her journey toward the bar. In the time that she’d stopped to watch the woman with the wish, her new client had appeared at the right-hand end. Hunched over, with an old-fashioned hat atop his head, he took the glass the bartender held out toward him and swirled it. He turned his head slowly to look over his shoulder, then paused. Elle guessed he’d seen her, though she couldn’t tell because of the shadow cast by the hat.

  She approached him warily. It was always risky meeting a new client. That was one of the reasons she brought her pocketknife with, just in case she needed to fend someone off and get away. Tonight, she had no pocket in which to keep the knife, and it wouldn’t be easily accessible inside her purse. Slipping it into her boot meant it slid all the way down to her ankle, which wasn’t helpful either. So she’d ended up wearing socks almost as high as the boots so she had something to secure the knife to the side of her leg. People in movies—the few she’d watched at home with Sienna on occasions when Salvia and Meredith were out—made it look so easy. Hopefully, she would have no need for the knife tonight.

  She took a seat on the stool next to him and swiveled to face him. “Sanguinious Maximus?” she asked, a wry smile on her lips.

  “Yes,” he answered. He turned toward her, not bothering to remove his hat. Elle tried to peer beneath the brim, but he tilted his head further downward in response. Perhaps he was a regular here and didn’t want anyone recognizing him while he met with a strange girl. “You take memories,” he said quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you do with them?”

  “Sorry, I should have been more specific.” Elle shifted closer to the bar and leaned her arms on it. “I don’t take them. I erase them. They’re gone forever.”

  “Is that so?”

  She frowned. “Yes, that’s so. I give people freedom from the memories they don’t want to live with. You tell me what you want to forget, and those will be the only memories I take.”

  “I see.” He fell silent. Then his hand stretched past the side of Elle’s face, as if to tuck her hair behind her ear.

  She jerked back. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I’ll do as I please,” he said. Then his hand flashed forward, almost faster than she could see. He gripped her ear and ripped the fake ear tip right off.

  “Hey!” she gasped, trying to shove him away as ice-cold fear shot down her spine. But his hand was around the back of her neck now, his fingers digging into her skin as he forced her closer. And finally, she saw him properly. His red eyes. A barcode tattoo barely visible above the collar of his shirt. A face she recognized from Club Onyx.

  “I know who you are,�
� the vampire hissed. “Human freak. You’re coming with me.” Something sharp and stinging pierced the inside of her arm. She wrenched it back before diving down toward her boot, but he grabbed her wrist before she could get to the knife. Then his hand was over her mouth. Surely someone would see. Someone would come and help her. Someone would …

  She blinked as her thoughts began to bump into one another. She was suddenly sleepy, and everything was blurring together, and the world was tilting to the side. “Had a little too much to drink, have you, darling?” the vampire said, his voice bleeding into the music and the chatter and the clink of ice cubes in glasses. “Let me just cover your ear there for you. Wouldn’t want anyone else to see.”

  She was vaguely aware of his arm around her as the scenery and people of The Topaz Lounge swam past her. Then everything became darker, and lights blinked past her visions in a repetitive pattern. Was she in the glass elevator? The one with the view of the city? She managed to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth and said, “You’re not … a friend of Monty’s.”

  “Monty has no friends,” the vampire said. “Not anymore. A dead man can’t have friends, can he?”

  Fear encompassed her, temporarily blacking everything out. But she heard the ding of the elevator and the whoosh as the doors opened. “Where are you … taking me …”

  He answered, but she couldn’t make sense of his words as the world faded in and out. Then his face was suddenly right in front of hers. “She tried to keep you from us. She thought we’d never find you. But she failed.”

  “Who?” Elle mumbled.

  “Your mother.”